Spice D'Italia
by Maus17
Summary: He was perfect- if Luis let this one get away, the company wouldn't forgive him. And he wouldn't forgive himself.


_**Tumblr request: This is so obviously not who you think it is. That person is obviously not me. You didn't see anything! Anyways, my question is, can you write a little one-shot where Guatemala is a photographer, traveling to Italy to shoot an album, and he finds Romano and makes him the subject? Human AU's of course~**_

Here ya go! 

* * *

__"You're perfect."

"...Excuse me?"

The young man turned around, squinting at him suspiciously with those glorious hazel eyes of his, lips turned downwards in a delicate frown, his slim brows furrowed. Luis clutched his camera excitedly, pursing his lips for a few seconds as he let his brown orbs glaze over the Italian's face once more, taking in every detail with a keen eye.

"I mean it," he declared decidedly, fishing around in his pocket. "You are."

He received a blink and an Italian curse in return, and instead of meeting uniquely hazel eyes, he was staring at a retreating back- his catch was getting away. Luis huffed and jogged a bit to catch up, taking long strides. "Wait!"

"Get the fuck away from me before I kick you in the-"

The insult was cut short as a small card was shoved in his face, being clutched tightly by a smooth, tanned hand. The Italian recoiled and his jaw clenched as he slapped it away, a snarl making his lip curl.

"What the hell are you doing?!" he demanded, raising his voice. "Get the hell away from me, you creep!"

He moved to sidestep away from him, but Luis got in his way once more, taking his wrist and pressing the card into his palm. A serious expression was on his face, and he narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, I know- I'm weird, I'm following you, this is weird, we're in the middle of the street, whatever. Have you ever been contracted for modeling before?" he asked, crossing his arms. The Italian gawked at him, and he fished his Identification and Credentials from the little necklace of sorts that hung around his neck. "I'm a professional photographer. I take pictures- that's what photographers do. I'm only asking because, well.. You should. My name is Luis by the way. Luis Gutierrez. You?"

"...Why the fuck would I tell you my name?"

Well, at least he had shoved the card into his pocket, and not ripped it in half, as was custom. That was a start. Luis let out a long sigh and rolled his eyes, his halfheartedly polite demeanor vanquished under the Italian's piercing gaze and sharp tongue. "That's what you do when you first meet people- you tell them your name and stuff. Don't you know this already?"

"..So, let me get this straight. You stalk me-"

"Managed to get a glimpse of you in the crowd and tried to catch up to you, yes."

"And say I'm p-perfect-"

Luis tried to ignore the sudden bright flush that was taking the young Italian's cheeks and smirked. "Well, in terms of male modeling, yes. Your manners could use some work."

"And chase after me-"

"I can't let a catch like you get away, now can I? The company would have my head."

"Just to tell me that I should go into modeling."

His face was bright red now, and his shoulders were stiff with contained fury, eyes gleaming in the light as he glared stonily. Luis chuckled and shrugged uncaringly.

"Well...si, that's about it," he said, getting another scowl in return.

"And you've been speaking English when you know Italian this whole time?" he asked angrily. At this, the photographer shook his head and wagged an index finger.

"No, no. I don't speak Italian- I speak Spanish. I'm from Guatemala, and they sent me to Italy to look for some recruits. Which brings us right back to square one," he said with a wide smirk. "Have you ever been contracted for modeling before?"

"...You're a creep- does it look like I've ever been contracted to model before?"

Alright. This was obviously wasn't going to work. Luis could feel his blood sizzling as he let out another sigh. Sure, he was used to people being rude, but it was hard to keep things light when you were constantly being sworn at and insulted. Maybe someone else would have luck with this guy. What a waste of good looks. He shrugged and put his credentials back inside his shirt, tucking his camera under his arm.

"Anyway, consider what I told you, and have a good day and all that crap. If you ever do decide to call, say Luis sent you," he said briskly, saluting and giving a brief wink before turning around and walking away. Almost instantly, his eyes began to roam the streets again, looking for-

"It's Lovino."

A voice derailed his train of thought, and he turned slowly, brown eyes meeting wavering hazel pools. Luis blinked, and the young man looked down at the ground as if it had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the entire universe.

"My name. It's Lovino. Lovino V-Vargas," he said quietly, frowning as he felt his face heat up under the photographer's watchful eye. He looked up and took a hesitant step backwards when Luis walked up to him, crossing his arms.

"Well, Mister Vargas- are you going to play nice?" he demanded, attitude brisk and businesslike despite the teasing words he used. Lovino squinted in confusion, and opened his mouth to question him, only to be cut off again. "Because if you play nice- your modeling career can start right here, right now."

"I-...I never said i wanted to-"

"So why'd you tell me your name?" Luis asked, growing a bit impatient. He could've spotted more people, taken a few good shots- he was wasting daylight. Part of him questioned why he was still here talking to this guy when he could've just slapped the card into his hand and walked away.

Lovino frowned. "That's what you do when you first meet people- you tell them your name and stuff. Don't you know this already?"

He crossed his arms sassily over his chest and raised a sarcastic eyebrow, watching Luis deadpan and sigh as he turned away. The Hispanic turned back to him and wagged his index finger, squinting.

"You know? I like you. Come on, then."

He began walking briskly, and ignored the sharp yelp Lovino gave, glad he was actually following him.

"Wait, just like that? What- where are we going?"

Luis smirked widely. "Get ready for your close up."

* * *

"...This is fucking stupid," Lovino grumbled, feeling his face heat up. "I changed my mind-"

"Oh no you don't," Luis rebuked, glaring lightly over his camera tripod. "You have any idea how long it took me to set all this crap up? You gonna pay for it? Didn't think so. Damn, I haven't even started on your makeup."

Lovino scowled, eyeing the multiple bags surrounding the tripod incredulously.

"Make up? No. I am not wearing any make up, you cazzo. No way in hell-"

"So how are you going to hide all those frown lines? They don't look good on camera, I'm telling you," Luis drawled uncaringly, grinning in triumph as he got the lens to focus. Lovino squeaked indignantly, his hand flying to his own cheek automatically, fingers working the smooth skin.

"_Frown lines_?! _Excuse me_!?" he exclaimed, blushing furiously. "I'll have you know-"

"Excitable little guy, aren't you? I was just kidding," Luis mumbled, stooping to pick up a small black bag, motioning towards the edge of the fountain in front of the camera. "Take off your jacket and sit down, please."

His voice had gone back to having that polite, businesslike air, and Lovino only gave a small huff before obeying, taking off his dark, olive green jacket to reveal a wine-red collared shirt, the black buttons matching his pants and going surprisingly well with his santoni shoes. Luis was impressed. At least he had a good fashion sense- that was a plus. He briefly looked down at the little bag in his hand and pulled out a small brush.

"Chin up," he mumbled, eyeing Lovino's complexion, trying to get the right mix. He looked back up and sighed impatiently, taking Lovino's chin in his hand and tilting his face upwards. "I said chin up."

Lovino blushed furiously and scowled, but pursed his lips once the soft brush made contact with his skin, closing his eyes. He recoiled once he felt his eyelashes being touched, and gasped indignantly once he caught sight of the tiny black brush in Luis' hand.

"_MASCARA_?" he yelled, standing up. "_Are you insane_?" Luis rolled his eyes and gently shoved him back down, huffing.

"You have to look like you have eyelashes, you know- all male models wear at least a little smidge before going on camera. Get used to it- you're lucky you don't have to use as much," he mumbled, leaning in and squinting at his eyes. "Your lashes are fine."

He ran his thumb over the Italian's cheek and cupped his face with both hands, looking this way and that, tilting his head one direction then another. "Hm. Looks good.."

Lovino swallowed hard and pursed his lips, hoping the foundation would stop his cheeks from looking bright red, even if it was just powder. Luis didn't seem to notice, and he let go of his face to run his hands through his hair, straightening a few wayward locks and moving his bangs out of his face, eyeing a certain unruly strand.

"Is there any way we can get that to lie flat?" he asked, briefly trying to smooth it down in a single motion, only to get it to bounce back up again. Lovino's breath caught in his throat, and he blushed furiously.

"..N-no," he said quietly. "There's not- it's like that."

Luis sighed and shrugged. "Eh, well," he mumbled, straightening Lovino's collar and brushing off his clothes, rolling his sleeves down his arms and making sure they weren't too wrinkled. He positioned his jacket so that it was casually draped next to him, and straightened Lovino's back, pausing for a moment to stare.

"...What?!" he demanded, huffing. "Get on with it!"

"...You are capable of smiling, yes?" he asked, watching Lovino curl his lips upwards forcefully. "..You look constipated."

"You ASSHOLE-"

"You just need to smile naturally. Eh, we'll work with what we have for now. Cup your cheek in your hand, look real moody- yeah, you're good at that. Okay," he said, kneeling behind the camera.

Luis became lost in the world behind the camera lens, reflecting on how the setting sun seemed to make Lovino's hazel eyes glitter, the tilt of his head that made him seem so broodingly pensive, the constant eye-rolls at the perfect moments when he thought he wasn't looking. The way he leaned back and his slim digits gripped the stone edge of the fountain, shoulders squaring as he looked away pensively- it was all priceless. He'd made a good choice.

Suddenly, a loud curse and a splash caught his attention, and he blinked. Lovino had slipped and fallen into the fountain, a mess of flailing limbs and Italian profanity, sending droplets of water flying everywhere. Luis gawked and watched him flounder about, heaving himself up from the fountain and emerging, his face dripping with crystalline drops, brown locks sleek and wet. His hazel eyes glimmered viciously and-

"Why are you still taking pictures, you asshole?! Come and help me up!" he commanded, growling as luis only chuckled at him.

"You look like a wet cat," he declared, smirking widely as Lovino slunk out of the water and huffed, a puddle forming at his feet, cheeks a brilliant shade of red. "You're lucky the makeup is water proof."

The Italian growled and gave a light shiver, hugging himself and scowling.

"I'm cold, I'm wet, you're being a shit- I'm done," he said, tossing his head and looking away. "And will you STOP with the pictures?!"

"And possibly miss the perfect shot? Never."

A small scoff caught Luis', attention, and he looked up. Lovino's lips were curled upwards almost elegantly, his brows raised, chest bobbing with quiet laughter.

"You obsessed...bastard," he said, looking for swearwords, shaking his head and sighing as he sat back down, rubbing his arms. "Seriously though..can we stop? I want to get home..Mio fratello is probably worried, and..it's late, and..."

He shrugged and rubbed at his face, blinking drops from his eyes as Luis smirked.

"So you CAN smile. Imagine that."

"Jerk. Come on, already."

Luis chuckled and folded up the tripod, packing up his bags and nodding. "Si, you can go. hold up a minute though- I know your name, but I need your number, possible email, fax, something to get ahold of you."

Lovino stared and watched as Luis took a little sticky note from his pocket, and handed him a pen, which he accepted reluctantly with a wet hand.

"Fine. Creep."

"Gracias."

He handed them back after scrawling his name and number, and an email address, and blinked in surprise as his jacket was wrapped over his shoulders, along with a red scarf.

"Can't have you catching pneumonia or some shit on your first day of the job, now can we?" Luis asked, smirked and hefting up his bags, handing him a little card. "The one in your pocket probably got wet. I would walk you home, but that's a little weird, and I bet you had enough of me for one day, no?"

With a little wave, he chuckled. "Nice doing business with you, Lovino," he said quietly, turning around.

"Wait!"

Luis froze, and looked back, watching Lovino pull at the scarf uncertainly, biting his lip.

"How- Why...How will I-"

"Don't worry. We'll see each other again," he replied. With a wink and a smirk, he melted into the darkened, crowded streets of Italy, leaving Lovino a flushed, flustered mess. The Italian sighed and frowned down at the little card before his eyes widened and his face went scarlet. Something else was written besides the modeling company's contact information.

_Luis: 1(312) 867 5309_

_Call me and maybe I can catch that smile again?_

That _asshole. _


End file.
